


No Chick Flick Moments

by UserImpala67



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural: The Animation
Genre: Cute Sam Winchester, Fluff, Implied Feelings, M/M, No Smut: Yet?, Possible Relationship in later chapters, Protective Sam Winchester, Random & Short, Vulnerable Dean, Wincest Feels, adorableness, feel good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4355909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UserImpala67/pseuds/UserImpala67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw this photo of Sammy and Dean:<br/>http://www.zerochan.net/1868236</p><p>And I thought it was so adorable, and I could totally see that happening, Sam being the one to hold Dean, and I started writing a sentence long blip about it, and it ended up being this adorableness.<br/>So, I'm just going to leave it as-is until I know if anyone's interested in reading more maybe?  Prequel?  Continuation?  I'm up for opinions.<br/>And PLEASE go look at the wonderful Art that inspired this (for now) short Fic.  </p><p>~Em</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Everyone in the FB "Wincest is Best" Group where I originally posted the Art that inspired it.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Everyone+in+the+FB+%22Wincest+is+Best%22+Group+where+I+originally+posted+the+Art+that+inspired+it.).



*****  
Moments like these were few and far between, and they happened without a word, without question as if the other always knew it was something one or both of them needed.  
There was no one else Dean would ever trust to be this vulnerable with, nor would anyone ever know he craved this embrace, those strong arms holding him tightly, caring for HIM. 

The eldest Winchester buried his head into the warm comfort, nuzzling his stubble-covered cheek into the firm expanse of the blue-plaid covered chest in front of him and inhaling his 'baby' brother's lavender and coconut scent with his eyes blissfully shut, peaceful...safe.

Sam sat quietly on the ground, not caring that his ass was falling asleep and that Dean's gun had been digging a bruise into his thigh since he had curled himself into his brother's body. It was the best feeling in the world, being the one Dean came to, the one to clear that burdened mind and at least for the moment, bring him peace. Nothing could interrupt that. No amount of discomfort would make him let go of Dean. His Dean. 

When he decided he'd had enough, and his brain signaled that he might be crossing the line between 'comfort' and something more intimate - god forbid he let anything that emotional get in the way of his life. Besides, it was Sammy. Right?  
Right. He told himself the same thing every time he cleared his throat and pulled back, nodding his head while trying to look back at Sam, who would always watch him with those damn big puppy eyes of his. He gave the taller man a brief hug before getting to his feet and brushing his pants off - a needless nervous gesture (soley to occupy his fidgeting hands) since he'd been fully held off the ground by Sam's impossibly long, jean-clad legs. 

Usually Sam and Dean both get up at the same time and without a word go about their day as if nothing happened. Sam however remained seated in the grass and Dean chanced a look down, one eyebrow arched over a wary, jade green eye before abruptly scowling at the content, satisfied smile on the chestnut-haired hunter's face. 

The brunette blinked his bright hazel eyes up at the blonde owlishly and cocked his head to the side, "What?" he asked, innocently. 

Dean waved a hand dismissively over his shoulder as he turned and strolled casually off towards the garage and attempted to sound like his normal gruff, don't-give-a-rat's-ass self as he called back without looking, "You know Sam."  
Turning the doorknob he added with more conviction than he felt,  
"No chick flick moments." and then he was gone, leaving Sam lying on his back in the sun, the smile still on his handsome face as he watched the clouds drift by.  
"I know big brother. No chick flick moments."


	2. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two memories:
> 
> Mary sings to Sam. and Dean.
> 
> Some jerk makes fun of Dean's "greaser" look. Sam fights him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going to be a lot of memories. From the time Sam was born and throughout their teenage years and then into their adulthood.

 

"Carry on my wayward son, there will be be peace when you are gone, lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more."

"Beautiful, just like you." the young blonde hunter stiffened and then tried to hide her surprise from the sharp green eyes of the handsome young man entering the room of their youngest son.  Of course John Winchester missed nothing and he was proud of his wife and her sharp senses.  His strong arms pulled her close and they watched the baby boy sleeping soundly in his crib, head full of chestnut curls.  "You're not so bad yourself Mr. Winchester." she teased poking him in the ribs.

His eyes widened in response "I never."

"Oh yes you do. In the shower and when you think no ones around when your out working on that damn car."

"Hey now, don't go talking about my Baby that way." John pressed his forehead against Mary's squeezing her gently before tickling under her arms. The petite blonde muffled a squeal with her hand ducking under his arm and pulling him out into the hallway to avoid waking their sleeping son.

"Sam?" a tentative voice called from the next room and the couple turned as the door cracked open, their oldest son, Dean plastic bat in hand, poked his head out.

"Whoa buddy. It's just us." his father soothed, dropping down to one knee and pulling his son into his arms, taking the bat and setting it aside. 

"It's just us."

"Sorry" came the sheepish reply. Dean ducked his tousled blonde head in embarrassment, his green eyes a mirror image of his fathers.

"I thought there was a monster come to get Sam."

Mary plucked her son from John's strong arms and held him close to her chest, kissing his soft honey blonde hair, inhaling the scent of lavender and cedar that was their boys.   

"Don't worry honey," she said calmly, blue eyes kind and warm as she rocked him gently while carrying him back to bed.

Laying him down she pulled up his covers and smiled her beautiful smile,

"There's no such thing as monsters." she lied, tucking his raggedy stuffed dog under his arm, watching his big eyes flutter closed as she hummed to the tune of "Dust in the Wind" an old lullaby her daddy used to sing to her.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

"What did I tell ya huh?  Look'a that beautiful shiner Sammy." Dean praised, tilting his little brothers head to the side to give him a better look, showing off the wound with pride. 

"There's a story to tell when we're old yeah? My little brother, standing up for me like some kinda White Knight." 

Sam's cheeks turned pink at the Praise, basking in the feel of finally proving himself worthy of the name Winchester.  The fair skinned brunette turned abruptly, catching the Hunter off guard, knowing his brother would find some way to avoid the contact otherwise.  Before Dean could say anything witty or sarcastic, or move out of reach Sam dove into the familiar warmth of the solid, comforting body in front of him and buried his bruised face into his older brothers chest, throwing a pair of long, lean arms around his neck and squeezing tightly, black and white sneakers touching the floor only with his toes, one shoelace coming undone and dragging across the wooden floor.  It didn't matter though, so long as he had this moment.

As predicted the muscled, leather clad chest under him rose with a sharp intake of breath and then vibrated as Dean cleared his throat, upper torso rumbling under Sam's ear as he patted the back of the young boy's ripped t-shirt awkwardly with one hand. 

“Heh… alright Sammy.” He detached his sibling with firm but gentle pressure on his shoulders, pushing him away not unkindly.  “No chick flick moments kid.” He winked, earning grin from Sam as he bobbed his head in agreement and backed off apologetically.   

“Now.  Lets finish getting you cleaned up so we can watch some Zorro alright?  You earned it.” Sam’s whoop of glee echoed through the dingy hotel room where they’d been left for nearly two weeks on their own, awaiting the return of the ever absent presence of their father. Tonight though Dean made sure the thoughts of abandonment never touched his baby brother’s mind.  Tonight was for Sam.  He’d praise his bravery, answer his questions, spar with him and sit through whatever damn show or movie Sammy wanted, so long as that smile never faltered.  Tonight, he vowed, they would be happy.       


	3. I Don't Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set During Season 5, scene is from Episode 18.   
> I changed some of the dialogue, but there is a lot of quoted material from the show - WHICH I DO NOT OWN OR HAVE ANY RIGHTS TO!
> 
> Please see end notes for Artist Credit used in Promo pics. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3
> 
> ~Em

 

“Is this really necessary?  How long do you think you can really keep me locked in here?” the questions were accompanied by a cold stare from jade eyes shadowed with anger directed at the two men who’d just opened the steel door to the warded panic room in the lowest level of Bobby’s house where he’d been banished ‘temporarily’.  More like sentenced.  The cylindrical iron walls were his prison.  His punishment for wanting to save the goddamn world.  Dean Winchester continued to glare at the intruders, waiting for an answer to his demands. 

Long, jean-clad legs and brown combat boots cleared the 4 inch lip of the marine style wheel handle doors galvanized steel frame and the 6’ 4” brunette had to duck his head to enter without injury.  Ablaze pastel blue eyes regarded the Winchester brothers carefully from the other side of the door.  Castiel frowned at the inability to follow Sam inside, the raven haired Angel clenching his hands into fists in his trench coat pockets, agitated that he couldn’t breach the warded steel walls and wishing for all the world that he could beat some sense into the brooding man he’d come to see as his closest friend. 

Dean’s eyes found Castiel’s watching him and he arched a thick blonde brow, a smirk playing on his full lips, “Not for nothing Cas, but the last person to look at me like that… I got laid.”  His jest had the desired effect, the Angel giving him a look that could kill (and probably would have hurt had he been unshielded from the heavenly being).  The dark haired man waved his hand, effectively slamming the heavy door shut with his mind with much more force than was necessary.

John and Mary Winchester’s eldest son turned his attention back to his brother, expecting an answer to his prior questions.  The face that Sam wore was apologetic, but determined as he planted his feet on the iron floor, stopping just inside one of the five points in the largest star of the devils trap painted on the flooring surface, his broad, tan and blue plaid flannel covered shoulders straightening with attempted confidence, long jaw set in resolve. 

“It is Dean.  This is a house full of flight risks.” He sighed tiredly; “Just until we figure something out ok?” his voice was gentle, almost pleading.  “I’ll figure something out.  Bobby’s working 24/7 you know we’ll find something. I know you aren’t going to let Adam give himself to Michael-“

“Damn right I’m not!” the sandy blonde interrupted hotly, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

Sam continued calmly, not wanting to anger him further, but knowing his words would be the last Dean wanted to hear, again. 

“But I’m not going to let you either.” 

The eldest Winchester took short, quick steps across the small room, stopping inches from his brother’s tall frame, so close he had to tilt his head up to look him in the eyes.  Those hazel orbs were troubled, staring back at him with nothing but concern.  Damn him.  It hurt to treat Sam the way he was about to, it was the last thing he wanted to do.  But this is how it had to be.  If he got Sam to turn away from him, then Bobby and Cas would have no choice but to follow his lead and let Dean do whatever he damn well pleased regarding his affiliations with the Angels.  Which meant he could offer himself as the Archangels Vessel and finally say “Yes” to Michael. 

He was sick of Hunting, sick of Fighting, sick of living a lie with his brother.  Sure he’d have to essentially die and be trapped in his own mind for all of eternity while some self-righteous, winged asshole inhabited his body, but at least he’d stop the Apocalypse and that arrogant prick Lucifer with his sacrifice.  

Then his Sammy could go live a normal existence, get married, have that white picket fence, kids and a dog life he’d always talked about.  In truth, while it seemed as if he were acting on purely selfish motives, this had more to do with his baby brother than saving the world.  It was about time the kid was given the freedom to be a normal person again.  To put this life of running, fighting and hiding. 

No more cheap motel rooms, sleeping in full gear, afraid to shower or sleep for more than 10 minutes, always watching his back, always worrying about the next case, always looking after Dean when it should have been the other way around. 

Sammy didn’t deserve this.  He didn’t choose this life.  Dean had forced it upon him with the guilt of needing to save their father and Hunting had consumed him just as it did John Winchester.  Dean knew Sam would never leave him now.  Not after everything they had been through, not after that night when they had found comfort in one another’s arms for the first time in years since their childhood.  Dean had seen the flicker of hope and the spark of adoring devotion light up those autumn colored eyes he’d missed so dearly.    

They kept their relationship a secret from the world.  Sam understanding Dean’s need to be the charming, flirtatious ladies man he’d been seen as since middle school and giving him all the space he desired, only ever acting on his feelings when his older brother initiated contact, and always being there to hold him when he finally broke down from holding it all in, never expecting or asking for anything more than Dean was willing to give. 

In fact Dean had all but denied there was even anything there; acting as though nothing had happened those rare, but wonderful times that they did.  Despite his denial and the fact that Dean was often rather promiscuous, bringing girls back to their hotels, or staying out for weekends at a time Sam never showed any signs of anger or jealousy.  The tall, chestnut haired man simply gave his brother privacy, many times simply renting his own room.  This was how they had gone on for years, and Sam never pressured him, never brought it up and never betrayed his trust in their mutual silence. 

Looking at his once little brother before him made Dean’s heart tighten painfully.  Sam wasn’t a kid anymore.  _He_ had taken that away when he reappeared in his brothers life with the words “Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home for a few days…” 

Everything Sam had gone through was his fault.  Every friend he’d lost.  All the pain in Sam’s life could have been avoided if only Dean were a better brother.  He wasn’t worthy of the love he saw ghosting across that handsome face whenever their skin touched or their eyes met. 

He had to go through with this. 

He’d give up his life.  His soul.  Everything in the world to know that Sammy would be able to live a long, happy, normal human life.  That would never happen if he was worrying and caring about Dean. 

_//I’m sorry baby brother.  This will only hurt for awhile.  Then you’ll forget.  Then you’ll be safe.  You can finally be happy.//_

The shorter young man let out a harsh, bark of laughter and jabbed his forefinger into his brothers chest roughly, causing the confused Winchester to step back a pace, wincing.

“ _You’re_ not going to let **ME**?” the tone in his voice was mocking, cruel.  “Since when have you ever been able to _MAKE_ me do anything? Huh Sammy?”

“Dean I-“ Sam began, stammering at the abrupt change in his demeanor. 

“No really,” he interrupted, continuing as if he hadn’t heard anything, “ **YOU**.  You can’t even take care of yourself, let alone try to keep me locked in here while dealing with little, wayward, lost Winchester number 3.” He sneered, referring to their half brother with annoyance. 

“That’s not true Dean.” A large, shaky hand ran through tousled, chocolate locks of hair in a nervous gesture as Sam frowned at his brother, unsure of how to respond.  He was angry, but also hurt, and his silence only prompted Dean to continue. 

“Sure it is.  How many times have I had to save your ass, hm?”

“Exactly.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he worked up the nerve to continue, every cell in his body screaming for him to apologize, grab hold of the frozen, bewildered figure before him and hold him tight until the world ended. 

“How many people are dead because of us anyway Sam?  Mom, Dad, all those people we were supposed to be saving…”

“Dean, that’s not our fault!  It’s not like we pulled the trigger.” Sam’s voice was angry and he shook his head.  But Dean didn’t stop,

“We might as well have.  I mean… Jess… c’mon Sam.  That was all on you.  It always will be.”

“No.”

“She died-

“No.”

“BECAUSE OF YOU SAM!” Dean’s voice echoed along the metal interior of the sigil painted walls. 

“You’ll never be able to live without that haunting you.  And you’re going to try and stop me from saving people, like dad taught us??  You can’t save anyone Sam.  But I can.”   

Hazel eyes stared intently at the ground; lips parted as Sam relived the painful memory of Jes’ death in his mind, guilt overtaking him all over again as he realized even Dean saw how worthless he was, what a burden he’d been, what a failure he had turned out to be.  But he refused to give up on his brother. 

 “I can try!” his younger brother finally met his eyes defiantly, grabbing the front of his cotton button up tightly and shaking him, as if it might clear his head and change his mind, all the accusations making his clouding his mead with resentment and denial.  “Well do you think maybe you could take a half second and stop trying to sacrifice yourself for a change?  Maybe we could actually stick together?”

Sam stared into Dean’s eyes pleadingly, their bodies’ centimeters apart, faces so close he could smell Dean’s aftershave and see every single freckle peppering bridge of the older man’s nose. 

“I don’t think so Sam.  Not this time.” Dean’s voice sounded far away in his own ears.

“Please, Dean, don’t do this.  I CAN help.  I’ll find a way, trust me!  I just need time!”

_//I’m sorry Sammy.//_

“That’s just it Sam.  I don’t believe anymore.” He watched confusion fill the young mans eyes.

“Believe in what Dean?”

“In you Sam.  I mean, I don’t.  I don’t know whether it’s going to be another demon chick, or some demon blood or what… but I do know they WILL find a way to turn you.  You’re weak, your angry, self righteous… Lucifer’s going to wear you to the prom man.  It’s just a matter of time.” 

“Don’t you say that to me!  Not you!” the slender hand wrapped in his shirt tightened and Sam’s strong arms shoved Dean backwards until his back hit the far wall, shoulder blades digging into the metal as he was effectively pinned, looking up into Sam’s hurt, accusatory gaze, tears threatening to fall from the corners of his eyes.    

Fighting the urge to kiss those perfect, insistent lips Dean grabbed a hold of Sam’s hands that were tightly fisted in the fabric of shirt and twisted his wrists sharply, bringing the tall Hunter to his knees and shoving him backwards so that he had to put out both hands to catch himself. 

“It’s the truth.”

Dean’s eyes remained void of emotion, watching without pity at the broken man before him as hot tears began to stream freely down Sam’s tan cheeks, all the fight gone out of him. The man he loved despised him.  Dean finally spoke his mind, and Sam accepted it completely because he knew it to be true.  He’d doubted himself his entire life.  Dean was the only one who ever believed in him, and it was all a lie.     Staggering to his feet slowly and cradling his wrist Sam couldn’t bear to face his brother any longer, emotions breaking free and crippling his ability to act with any sort of rational thought. 

“I’m sorry you had to waste all these years on me.” He whispered, voice cracking, not daring to look back as his tall outline disappeared through only exit, metal door swinging shut behind him followed by the inevitable sound of the wheel being turned and the lock sliding into place.

Sam’s words echoed on the empty walls before fading away into nothingness, leaving Dean drowning in the silence that threatened to suffocate him with every breath.  His legs gave out, body slumping to the floor, arms gripping his knees tightly to his chest as he buried his face into them, deep, anguished sobs wracking his lean, muscular frame. 

For Dean Winchester Death could not come soon enough. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit for Digital Art/Painted Images used in the Promo Pics:
> 
> Amanda Tolleson  
> Tianhuayoucao
> 
> If your artwork was used and you would like credit or for me to remove it, please, please let me know! and I will do so immediately! <3


End file.
